𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
It's the beginning of a new age when Jaylah Imperatrix seemingly returns from the dead to reclaim her throne. And in perfect timing.
In her absence, evil has be...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Act 2 Chapter 94 JAYLAH
Jaylah's gaze followed the temporarily dismissed servant overseer as he waltzed to the base of her throne. His face was still colored in a sickly pallor from the poison, but he was out of bed and fully functional faster than she expected.
"You may speak," she said as he lowered his head in a bow. The bald circle on the crown of his head shone.
"As you may have heard, Your Majesty, I was struck by a sudden illness not long ago that prevented me from doing my job. I presume a temporary overseer was put in my place. I stand here before you to humbly request that I am reinstated, as I have been nursed back to full health."
"How lucky." Jaylah's gaze was only on Antinoch, who had escorted the overseer into the room. She was professional enough to never show anything on her face, but Jaylah saw her white knuckles. The way her eyes refused to meet the older man's. As Jaylah's personal aide, Antinoch normally held her high rank with an air of cool self-assurance, but she now looked as though she was the overseer's subordinate. And she was not.
"Please leave the room," Jaylah told him. "I must deliberate."
Disgruntled, the overseer stepped outside with the two soldiers guarding the door. Jaylah swung one leg over the other, leaning back in her throne. "What did he do to you?"
"Oh." Antinoch actually seemed to be at a loss for words. "I don't know what you mean, Your Majesty. I have never had a problem with Mr. Petreas before."
Jaylah tilted her head with incredulity. "Antinoch. You may tell me."
Antinoch was quiet for a long time, not meeting Jaylah's stare. "There was a time in which I did not smile enough when serving a diplomat from Etharia. Mr. Petreas told me I exhibited a 'sullen mood,' though I swear it was not my intention. When I told him as much, he backhanded me across the face. It was only once in all my years of living under his leadership."
Her lips tightened meaningfully, as though physically restraining the words from gushing forth. "There is more," Jaylah realized.
"When I first came to live in the palace at fourteen, the other girls warned me to pull my uniform skirt all the way down, because Mr. Petreas always said, 'I am running a palace, not a brothel.' There were times when...when I came down after a long day of work and my uniform must have been askew. Mr. Petreas then...brushed against me in an inappropriate way. I suppose it was his form of teaching me not to do it again." She shook her head, a hand to her temple. "It only happened a few times when I was younger. I became more professional. And I know it's not bad compared with assaults other women in the world have suffered—"
"Has anyone reported Petreas for this behavior?"
"I tried. The other girls told me it was no use, but I wanted justice. I brought it to his superior...your father. Nothing came of my complaint."
